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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473505">With Love Filling the Days (That's What it's Really About)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/probsnothawkeye/pseuds/probsnothawkeye'>probsnothawkeye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon Asexual Character, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Introspection, M/M, Vignettes, muses are dumb and mine told me I had to write this, that sondheim musical from the 70s that was revived recently?, this is inspired by the musical Company, ya know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:54:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/probsnothawkeye/pseuds/probsnothawkeye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of Jon's friends are either married or engaged, and through his time with them and a certain archival assistant he learns more about romantic love and what that means to him.</p>
<p>This is inspired by the musical Company. I don't know what else to say except that.<br/>(you don't need to know the musical to enjoy this fic, it was just my inspiration)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Jon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello hello!<br/>So yeah<br/>This is a thing I've written<br/>It's very niche but at the same time I'm proud of it<br/>Just some background on Company and my handling of it:<br/>Company is about a single man named Bobby and his relationship with all of his married friends. It's very hetero/amatonormative but the songs are really catchy and it's enjoyable nonetheless. It's told in vignettes, like this fic is, and is ultimately very open ended.<br/>I took inspiration from some of the scenes and songs, which I'll list in the chapter notes each time.<br/>I tried my best to make it less amatonormative but I'm not sure if I succeeded so if this reeks of amatonormativity I sincerely apologize<br/>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon’s eyes blinked open at the sound and feel of his phone vibrating in his pocket. Looking around he saw that he had fallen asleep at his desk in the archives yet again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Drat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Leaning back in his chair and stretching, Jon hit ignore on the call. It was most likely just another spam call, nothing important. The clock above his door read 7PM, well after he was supposed to leave the archives for the day. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luckily</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one will be around to berate me for my work habits at this hour.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or so he thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The second Jon opened the door he was greeted by a large group yelling “SURPRISE!” Startled, Jon’s eyes darted around to see his assistants in the archives, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Looking just behind their faces, he saw a large sign reading HAPPY 35TH BIRTHDAY JON! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jon said softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay, boss?” Tim asked, coming up to Jon with a wide grin on his face. “Did we scare you? Or did you just forget your birthday?” Tim was clearly joking, but upon seeing the sheepish look on Jon’s face, he sighed. “You forgot your own birthday, boss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In my defense, I was working on organizing the archives and that is a big task…” Jon trailed off as he saw the looks on his friend’s faces. “I suppose I should’ve taken a break, maybe checked a calendar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim rolled his eyes, stepping behind Jon and forcing him to walk towards the table set up with food and a few small presents on it. At the very center was a round cake, Happy Birthday written across the top. "We'll have to berate you for it later, boss. For now, make a wish!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon stared at the cake for a moment before looking up at all his friends. They were staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to blow out the candles. After another short moment, he did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What did you wish for?" Tim asked, bringing forth plates for serving the cake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He can't tell you what he wished for, Tim! It won't come true then!" Sasha replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh come on, just tell us!" Melanie called from her place in the back of the room, her arms wrapped lovingly around Georgie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sasha's right, it won't come true if he does," Basira said matter-of-factly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Actually, I didn't wish for anything," Jon said honestly, but it did nothing to stop everyone around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Everyone wishes for something, Jon," every head in the room turned to see Elias entering the archives. Upon receiving everyone's looks, Elias held up a bottle of wine. "I heard something was going on for our dear archivists birthday. And that there would be cake."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone seemed to relax slightly as they took in the sight of the wine. Jon, never one for being the center of attention, made his way to the corner of the room, a plate of cake in hand. He watched as his coworkers, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>, chatted with each other, noting how all of the couples found themselves entangled with each other in some manner. Sasha and Tim were holding hands as they talked with Melanie and Georgie, Melanie’s arms still wrapped around her fiancée. Basira and Daisy were seated next to each other, chairs moved together so they were shoulder to shoulder. Elias was on the phone with someone, the tender look on his face suggesting it was his husband Peter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was sometimes shocking to him how he found himself constantly in the company of these good and crazy people, his married and engaged friends. As much as he pretended to prefer being alone, he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without them in it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon was shaken from his thoughts by Tim turning on music. Sasha, who always made a point of getting Jon to join in, found her way over to the corner, pulling him to his feet and dragging him back to the party.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You'll have to come over again soon, Jon," she said to him as they danced. "Tim and I love having you over for dinner!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course, Sasha, thank you," Jon said, just barely audible over the music. "And thank you for the party. It's… nice."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha laughed, pulling Jon into a quick hug. "Of course, Jon."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon had just finished recording a statement the following day when there was a soft knock at his office door. "Come in." Martin stepped in, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a small box in the other. The cup of tea was set down gently on Jon's desk. "Thank you, Martin."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not a problem," Martin said, still hovering near Jon’s desk. "I, um… I'm sorry for missing your birthday celebration yesterday."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's quite alright," Jon said, looking through the statements on his desk, hoping it would make Martin leave faster. "I didn't even remember it was my birthday to begin with."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right," Martin said, still awkwardly hanging around Jon’s desk. After a tense moment of silence, Martin blurted out, "I got you something!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That caused Jon to look up from his work, eyes focused on the box Martin had held out in front of him. "Oh. Thank you, Martin, you didn't have to-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know, I know," Martin said, a palpable awkward energy radiating from him. "But… Well I wanted to. Open it?" Jon nodded, still not fully understanding the situation at hand. He opened the box to reveal a small pin shaped like an eye next to a small pin shaped like a cat. "It's a little silly, but I saw them in the shop and I… Well they made me think of you, I suppose."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked at the pins for a moment before looking back at Martin who was smiling sheepishly at him. "Thank you, Martin. They're lovely," Jon said honestly, reaching for the eye shaped pin and affixing it to his jacket. Martin’s smile grew brighter and he nodded before leaving Jon to return to his work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon took a sip from his cup of tea and studied the pins for another minute before putting them aside and returning to work.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tim and Sasha</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Visiting with Tim and Sasha was always an experience for Jon. He never fully knew what to expect from them, but always enjoyed himself. At the present, Tim was trying to get Jon high and Sasha was trying to control her husband. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, boss, just once!” Tim prodded, shaking a bag of gummies in Jon’s face. Jon grimaced. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh leave him alone, Tim,” Sasha said, snatching the bag and bringing it back to the kitchen. “Jon is clearly uncomfortable, don’t force him! And, like you said, he’s our boss. This is workplace harassment.” Though she tried her best to keep a straight face, Jon could see the corner of her mouth turn upwards and soon both she and Tim were giggling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t be workplace harassment in our home, love,” Tim said, turning to Jon and stage-whispering "I married a square," a fond smile on his face. Jon had seen it many times when Tim looked at Sasha. Somehow it was always the same softness and love, and it had never once faded in all of Jon’s years of knowing the two. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon couldn’t help but wonder what that love felt like.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you mean, Jon?” Tim asked as they worked on organizing a pile of statements together back in the archives.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You always just look so… fond when you look at Sasha. It never changes. How… I mean, there’s no way it’s easy, especially with how long you two have been together.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tim scoffs at this. “Of course it’s easy. How could loving my wife be difficult?” Tim grabbed another statement, gave it a once over, then filed it away. “It’s the little things, Jon.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The little things?” Jon asked, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The little things you do together. The little things you share together. The little ways you try for each other. Love doesn’t have to be all grand gestures, in fact in many ways it’s the opposite of that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It always surprised Jon that Tim, with his extravagant and extroverted personality, would value the little things in marriage as much as he did. And yet, every time Jon was alone with just Tim and Sasha, he could see exactly what Tim had meant when Jon had originally asked him. The two of them maneuvered as one, like extensions of each other. Jon saw it in the archives, but saw it even more in their home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to find you someone, boss,” Tim said suddenly, shaking Jon from his thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re always either on your own or with one of the couples in our friend group,” Tim said, looking at Sasha and gesturing to Jon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s right, Jon,” Sasha said, sitting down on the couch next to Tim, their fingers lacing together almost automatically. “I mean really, when’s the last time you went on a date?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon thought about this for a moment, before fiddling with his hands sheepishly. “Ah that was probably… That was probably Georgie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tim looked at him incredulously. “You haven’t been on a date since </span>
  <em>
    <span>uni</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, after Georgie, I really threw myself into my band and then into my master’s degree-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tim held up a hand, stopping Jon’s word vomit. “Let’s take this one point at a time. You were in a band?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He was in The Mechs,” Sasha said, pulling out her phone to pull up a video. “Georgie told me the last time we had coffee. I did mean to tell you, Tim,” She held out the phone to Tim who took it eagerly, watching the video with rapt attention. “Now, back to the real matter at hand, Jon, you haven’t been out with anyone since then?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. They sat there for a moment, the only sound coming from Tim watching a video of Jon performing. When the sound of that finally faded, Tim looked at Jon. “You’re telling me you dressed up as some sort of space pirate and performed on campus and haven’t gotten laid since Georgie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, that’s not- I don’t-” Jon felt himself heating up, fighting hard to control his breathing and fight off the growing panic. “I’m not really into that sort of thing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The dressing like a space pirate or the getting laid?” Tim asked casually. “Because if it’s the former, I’ve got news for you, boss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The latter.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sasha gave him a small smile and mouthed an apology for her husband. Tim, on the other hand, just nodded. “Good to know, good to know. Oh! What about romantic stuff with guys though? You firmly straight or…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tim!” Sasha said, smacking her husband on the shoulder. “We talked about having some tact with this, didn’t we?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t set him up if I don’t know how he’s swinging!” Tim replied, putting his hands up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon watched the two bicker for a moment, no real anger or heat of any kind behind their words. If anything, Jon would say that Sasha looked incredibly amused by Tim's attempts to defend himself. "Biromantic, if you must know, Tim," Jon said finally to stop the bickering. "But honestly, I'm okay on my own. No need to be marrying me off to anyone."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sasha looked at Jon as if she were staring straight into his brain. It was a soft yet cutting look, one that he had seen many times through their years working together and becoming friends. "I'm not saying that you can't be happy on your own, but I know you, Jon. I've seen how you watch after us and other couples, there's a sense of longing to it. If this really isn't something you want in your life, we'll drop it, no questions asked and no judgement at all. But are you being honest with yourself when you say that you're fine on your own?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon wanted to argue, say 'Yes, of course I'm fine on my own, always have been' but something stopped him. He knew people who were happier on their own or content without romantic relationships, but he never really considered himself to be one of those people. He pretended, sure, kept up a facade. But Sasha had known him long enough to see straight through him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I suppose… letting you and Tim set me up with someone wouldn't be the worst."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The few dates Jon had gone on since his last trip to Tim and Sasha's had been… trying to say the least. It never felt as though there were a connection, and it was making Jon start to wonder if he would ever make a connection at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was startled from his thoughts by the sound of Martin entering his office. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Martin said with a warm smile. "I didn't hear you recording so I figured now would be a good time. Tea?" He asked, holding a cup out to Jon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you, Martin," Jon said, accepting the cup. Martin hovered by his desk for a moment, as if gearing up to ask Jon something. "Is everything alright?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, yes, it's just… Well it's about noon now and no one has seen you leave your office since you got in this morning. I'm assuming you haven't eaten?" Jon's stomach chose that exact moment to grumble, eliminating his chance to protest. "Thought so. Come on, you're taking a break to eat."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I really don't think that's necessary-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin gave Jon a sharp look, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of his chair. "Nope. You've been here since at least seven, I'm sure. And you haven't eaten. You're not a robot, Jon. You're allowed to take breaks."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Jon allowed himself to be pulled out of the archives to a nearby café. He and Martin both got sandwiches and Jon convinced Martin to allow him back into the archives now that he had food with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine, but I'm staying until you eat that sandwich," Martin conceded. "No arguments." Jon relented, if only because he figured Martin would be quietly making sure Jon ate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was wrong, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" Martin asked before taking a small bite of his sandwich. "You seem… more worn out than usual."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Tim and Sasha are trying to get me to start dating again. It's been quite taxing to be honest."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin seemed surprised at the response, looking away nervously. "Oh. What's… why has it been taxing?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon studied Martin for a moment before shrugging. "Just haven't clicked is all."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I see," Martin said softly, gaze still not meeting Jon’s. It looked as though Martin wanted to question this further, but he seemed to decide against doing so. Instead, they ate in relative silence, occasionally talking about the goings on in the archives.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was loathe to admit it, but it was actually kind of nice.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was inspired by the following songs/scenes: <br/>The Little Things You Do Together<br/>The vignette about David and Jenny <br/>The vignette about Peter and Susan</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Daisy and Basira</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ever since they survived a cave-in together, Daisy and Jon had become close friends. Close enough that they had started having tea together at one of their flats every weekend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This weekend they were in Daisy and Basira's flat, the latter emerging from the bedroom where she had been taking a call to see Jon and Daisy sat at the kitchen table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, it's tea day," Basira said with a nod as she walked through the door. "You two mind if I join?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not at all, it's your flat after all," Jon said, gesturing to the open seat next to her wife. "We were just discussing the martial arts classes you two have picked up since leaving the police force to join the archives."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy smiled as Basira sat down next to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before getting up to grab an extra cup for tea. "She's a great sparring partner even if I always win."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Basira rolled her eyes. "You do not."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes I do!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon sat back and watched as his friends teased each other good naturedly. He had always been fond of spending time with Daisy and Basira. Though they maintained a high level of professionalism while at the archives, they were often softer with each other in the privacy of their home. If he were being honest, Jon would admit that he felt lucky to see this side of his friends. He knew what they went through on the police force and was grateful that they finally had a chance to just relax and be happy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So Jon," Basira said after taking a sip from her tea cup. "I hear you've started going on dates again."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Tim spreading gossip around the office again I take it?" Basira nodded, giving him a look that screamed 'Do go on'. "He and Sasha feel that I could… benefit from having someone other than my married or engaged friends in my life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Basira raised an eyebrow at this. "Do you disagree?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine how I am now," Jon argued weakly. "I hardly see what failed blind dates will do for me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy and Basira shared a look that Jon couldn't quite comprehend, before Daisy commented, "You've been spending much more time with Martin these past few weeks."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon fought a fond smile from finding its way onto his face. "He's taken it upon himself to make sure I'm 'not overworking' myself and eating regularly. Friendly concern, I'm sure."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two ladies in front of him shared another look before Basira sighed and moved to stand up. "You are truly hopeless, Jonathan Sims," Basira pressed a quick kiss to Daisy's cheek. "I better get going, supposed to meet with Melanie for some drinks and wedding stuff. Always good seeing you, Jon. Love you, Daisy."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Love you, too."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy watched Basira as she left, something gleaming in her eye. Fondness, like Tim felt for Sasha, perhaps. Or perhaps it was simply love. Once the door closed behind Basira, Daisy turned back to Jon. "I'm incredibly lucky to have her."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though they had been close for some time now, Daisy's candidness always found a way to shock Jon. "I think she would say the same about you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy smiled at this, looking down at the mug in her hands. "For the longest time I thought I was happier, </span>
  <em>
    <span>better,</span>
  </em>
  <span> on my own. Even when we were partners on the force, it still felt safer to keep her at arms length. She did the same to me, of course, but in our line of work…" Daisy trailed off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Silence fell over the pair, slightly less comfortably than it usually fell. Jon took a sip of his tea, wondering whether or not he should say something. Finally, Daisy brought her gaze back to Jon. "You've got so many reasons for not being with someone, Jon. But you haven't got one good reason for being alone."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not alone," Jon protested. "I've got you, haven't I? And Basira, and Tim, and Sasha, and Georgie, and Melanie, and, and Martin. That's hardly alone."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The look Daisy gave him was similar to the one Sasha had given him before he agreed to let her and Tim set him up on blind dates. It was soft, a level of understanding to it. At the same time it was cutting, looking straight into Jon’s core. "You know exactly what I mean by alone, Jon. Trying to deflect that only proves it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And, on some level, Jon did know what she meant. He wasn't the kind of person who needed romantic attachments as a form of validation in his life, but he could admit that he did miss having that in his life. Even all these years later, his time with Georgie was still something he treasured dearly, though they worked significantly better as friends. He missed the warmth that came with having someone in bed with him, the understanding that came with a partner, the caring for someone in a way so different from his platonic relationships.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I am trying, Daisy," Jon said softly, an unspoken agreement with her previous statement lingering in his words. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, Jon."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon opened his mouth to speak more on the topic, but Daisy held up a hand and gave him a weak smile. "I'll drop it for now, but I hope you think about it. I thought I was better alone, too. I wasn't."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If Jon were being honest, he would admit that he was starting to enjoy spending time with Martin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two had lunch together every day, usually eating together in Jon’s office. What had started as an annoyance and distraction from his work had steadily become something Jon looked forward to. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mood was also aided by the fact that Tim and Sasha had stopped trying to set him up with people.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I wonder what made them give up," Martin commented one day during lunch. "It's not like Tim to back down from a challenge."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon shrugged, taking a bite of the curry he had for lunch. "Perhaps he just got bored of it," Jon looked out the door to see Tim, Sasha, and Melanie talking animatedly. "Or perhaps Melanie and Georgie's upcoming wedding is enough of a distraction from matchmaking me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin laughed softly, hand over he mouth, trying not to call attention to the two of them. "I'm sure the efforts will just ramp up after the wedding then."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon shuddered at the thought. "I'd much prefer they didn't. I'm fine with being single! And it's not like they're trying to set you up with anyone, hardly seems fair."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, well," Martin said, growing slightly redder than he had been before. "They did offer, once, but I told them no. Told them that they were married, they should know that it's about being with </span>
  <em>
    <span>somebody</span>
  </em>
  <span> not some </span>
  <em>
    <span>body</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They didn't push too hard after that."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucky bastard," Jon grumbled. Martin laughed again, something about the sound making Jon feel warm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He decided it was probably best not to think about it too much.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is based on the songs/scenes<br/>Being Alive<br/>The vignette about Harry and Sarah</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Melanie and Georgie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Melanie and Georgie had been engaged for so long, it was hard for Jon to believe they were finally getting married. But here he was, in their flat helping the two girls get ready for their big day. Jon was helping Georgie because he was one of her oldest friends and he was helping Melanie because…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jon?” Melanie called into his office one evening after hours. Jon was, of course, still at his desk. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ah, Melanie, I, um, I was just getting ready to leave,” Jon fumbled to hide the statement he was getting ready to read as Melanie walked into the office.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Save it, Sims, I know you’ll be here for hours still. This isn’t about that,” Melanie had always been a bit… abrasive with Jon, but for once she wasn’t here for snark. In fact, she seemed… almost nervous about something. Jon couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but something was clearly troubling her. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is something wrong, Melanie?” Jon asked, motioning for her to take the seat opposite his desk. To his surprise, she did.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look, I… I didn’t like you,” Melanie started, not meeting Jon’s gaze. Jon chuckled slightly, if not nervously, before Melanie continued. “At least, not at first. Not for a while, if I’m honest. But since working in the archives and starting therapy and being with Georgie… You’re something like an annoying brother or a sad dad to me now.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Melanie, you’re only three years younger than me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know that!” she snapped, meeting his eyes momentarily before looking away again. “What I’m trying to say is… I don’t have any family at this wedding except for the family I chose. And while you’re still an annoying arse who works way too much…” Melanie finally looked up at Jon and held his gaze, nerves and a hint of sadness in her eyes that made Jon want to reach out to her. “I would really appreciate it if you could walk me down the aisle at the wedding.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon sat back a bit in his chair, shocked by the statement Melanie just made. He knew their relationship had greatly improved in the past few years but he never would have expected this from Melanie. “Are you sure?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Melanie scoffed. “Of course I’m sure. I… You were the first person, the </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>only</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> person, I thought to ask.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon smiled a bit, standing up from his desk to go and place his hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “I would be honored, Melanie.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling to himself as he reflected on the memory, Jon walked to the room Georgie had stationed herself in to get ready. “Do you need anything, Georgie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you come help me zip up this dress please? And make sure the Admiral doesn’t get in here!” Georgie called through the door. Jon entered the room quickly, shutting the door behind him before the Admiral could enter the room and make a mess of Georgie’s dress. As Jon zippered the dress, Georgie breathed a shaky sigh. “Can you believe the day is finally here, Jon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How many years in the making is this?” Jon asked teasingly, taking a good look at Georgie in her dress. The glittery white fabric dazzled against her smooth brown skin and her curly hair was pulled into a high bun. She was gorgeous, of course, and her wedding look really accentuated this fact. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh hush you,” Georgie said, turning around to smack Jon playfully on the shoulder. “You’re not one to talk right now, I mean how long have you been on your own?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I be on my own with such wonderful friends?” Jon remarked sarcastically. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Georgie laughed, moving to usher Jon out of the room. “Go check on Melanie, why don’t you? Get out of here before I regret inviting you to my wedding!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon laughed as he was pushed out the door, making his way over to the bedroom where he knew Melanie was getting ready. He knocked on the door, but got no response. Puzzled, he opened the door slightly, peeking in to see Melanie seated on her bed, still in her pajamas. “Melanie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her head shot up. “Jon! What… Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon moved through the door quickly, but the Admiral still got in, jumping up on Melanie’s lap. Closing the door gently behind him, Jon looked over Melanie. It seemed as though she had been crying, and things were thrown about the room as if she had been angry. Her dress hung on the back of the door, still in the plastic from the bridal store. “Melanie, what’s going on? Why aren’t you dressed yet? The wedding is only an hour away.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not getting married today,” Melanie replied softly, running her hand through the Admiral’s fur.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t just stand there, I’m not getting married today,” Melanie said, her voice full of panic. “Go! Can’t you just go, Jon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a split second where Jon considered giving in and just leaving Melanie there on the bed, going to tell Georgie that something was wrong. But Jon felt responsible for making Melanie feel better, if only because she had entrusted him so much on this day, so instead he sat down on the bed next to her. “Care to tell me why you’re no longer getting married today?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Melanie quietly moved the Admiral from her lap, drawing her knees up to her face. “She’s wonderful. I can’t ruin her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Melanie-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, what even is marriage?” Melanie said, suddenly bursting off of the bed and beginning to pace. “It’s just a, a, a prehistoric ritual! A prehistoric ritual where we promise fidelity forever and then when it’s all said and done it’s just her and me and she’ll realize that I’m crazy that regret everything and I just…” The pacing slowed to a stop as all of the anger and panic seemed to leave Melanie’s body. She turned to Jon with tears in her eyes. “I can’t do this to her, Jon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was silence for a moment as Melanie sat back down on the bed, the Admiral jumping back into her lap. Tears continued to fall messily down her face and she sniffled, leaning against Jon. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. God, look at me. She could marry anyone, why on earth would she choose me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon thought back to a conversation he had with Martin not long ago and smiled softly at Melanie, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I've been told that, when it comes to love, you have to be with </span>
  <em>
    <span>somebody</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not some </span>
  <em>
    <span>body</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And for Georgie, you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>somebody. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Somebody who cares about her and who she cares about. Someone who picks her up when she's down and someone who holds her to account when need be," Jon pulled away from Melanie for a moment, looking her right in the eye. "Love isn't about deserving, it's about growing. It's about growing </span>
  <em>
    <span>together.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Melanie laughed, tears finally stopping their rush down her face. "When did you get all poetic? Spending too much time with Martin, it seems."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon blushed brightly. “I… Shut up.” That only made Melanie laugh harder, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. “So, Ms. King, do you think you will be making it to your wedding?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Melanie got up, looking at the clock and then glancing at herself in the mirror, before turning back to Jon. “I have about an hour and my sad work dad by my side. I do think that will be enough to get me ready in time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon smiled warmly, happy to see the growing joy on Melanie’s face. “Perfect.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The hour turned out to be just enough time to get Melanie ready and to the venue. This time the tears were happy ones and the hug she gave Jon as they reached the altar felt like a ‘thank you’. From that point, everything went off without a hitch. Georgie and Melanie were radiant, their love pervading the space, everyone completely unaware of how close this came to not happening.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon found himself gravitating to Martin when the reception came about. Melanie had been right in her assessment, he and Martin had been spending more time together. In fact, Jon found himself seeking out Martin more often than he had in the past. Trying not to think about why, Jon took a seat next to Martin. “How did you find the ceremony?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin smiled at Jon. “It was lovely. Though I definitely didn’t expect to see you walking Melanie down the aisle.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon felt himself redden slightly. “Ah, yes, um. It had surprised me as well when she asked, but I’m glad I was able to. She and Georgie will be very happy together. Or, happier than they already were, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin laughed, the sound going straight to Jon’s heart. “I think that’s the closest to waxing poetic as I’ve ever heard from you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, well, my dear friends did just get married. I suppose it’s as good a time as any to ‘wax poetic’,” Jon said with a small smile, trying to ignore the fact that that was essentially what Melanie had said to him earlier. Perhaps she had been even more correct than Jon thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin simply smiled again before excusing himself to go and congratulate the brides. As he left, Jon found himself thinking about the friendship growing between himself and Martin since his last birthday. His mind drifts to the conversation he had with Daisy all those months ago, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You've got so many reasons for not being with someone but you haven’t got one good reason for being alone.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Perhaps she was right. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon’s eyes find their way to Martin once again as he spoke to Georgie and Melanie, ever radiant smile on his face. The same smile that made Jon feel brighter inside. A smile that Jon was sure could never be for him. And yet…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Jon got up to go and mingle with other guests, trying his best to keep his thoughts in the present and not on Martin.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is based on the songs/scenes:<br/>Getting Married Today<br/>Marry Me A Little<br/>The vignette about Paul and Amy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Peter and Elias</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Having dinner with Elias was not Jon’s favorite pastime, but saying no to his boss felt wrong to do. Elias did preface the invitation by saying they were to discuss some of the goings on at the Institute, after all. Jon assumed it would be a purely professional outing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He, of course, was wrong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently Elias’s husband Peter was joining them and, to make matters worse, the couple appeared to be in the midst of yet another ‘I’m going to divorce you/not if I divorce you first’ back and forth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t spend enough time together,” Elias explained as he saw Jon’s expression when Peter sat down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Too much time together if you ask me,” Peter grumbled, arms crossed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elias shot a glare at his husband. “And either way his family does give quite a sum to the Institute. He knows enough about what’s going on, I’m sure he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>be professional</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Another glare.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon had only been alone with Elias and Peter once, shortly after their third wedding. Jon had gone to talk to Elias about hiring more staff in the archives and Peter happened to be there. They were much more… enamored with each other at that point than they were currently. Trying to keep count in his head, Jon guessed they were heading toward divorce number four.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would anyone put themselves through the constant back and forth?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jon thought to himself as he watched his boss and his boss’s husband shoot comments back and forth at each other as if he weren’t even there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sure either of them could find another partner-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon,” Elias said firmly, eyes still trained viciously on Peter. “Would you mind stepping outside with me for a cigarette? Perhaps when we come back Peter will be ready to discuss like adults.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon nodded, sparing a glance at Peter who looked angry but also a bit sad as Jon walked away with Elias. The two excused themselves outside of the building, still within view of their table through the window. “So, Elias, about our expenditures for this past year-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“God, he’s a prick, isn’t he?” Elias said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Can’t even come to one business dinner without grumbling like a child.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon shuffled awkwardly where he was standing, trying his best not to comment on the state of his boss’s marriage. “Right, well, as I was saying about the expenditures-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do I even stay with him?” Elias asked, cutting him off. Jon was, of course, used to his boss ignoring him. What he was not used to, however, was the personal information being shared. “I mean, really, it’s not like I can’t find anyone else!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Elias-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you, Jon?” Elias asked before taking another drag from his cigarette. “A fine looking fellow such as yourself, I’m sure you’ve got offers left and right from people.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, Elias, those expenditures-” Jon started but was cut off again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When are we going to stop dancing around each other, Jon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon took a step back. “I beg your pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elias paid his question no mind, just staring intently at Jon. “I believe you heard my question properly, Jon. But I shall repeat regardless: When are we going to stop dancing around each other?” Elias reached out like he was going to grab Jon’s hand, but Jon pulled away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ, Elias, are you that sorry you got married?” Jon asked, still keeping his guard up and maintaining a distance between himself and his boss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elias put his cigarette out. “You’re always sorry you got married, Jon,” he said sadly, before looking through the window at Peter who appeared to be on the phone. “But you’re always grateful, too. He’s… It’s easy to argue with him and yet when I see him I’m…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elias trailed off and Jon took a step closer, studying Elias’s expression as he looked at Peter through the window. He looked wistful and longing, as if the fighting was hurting him more than he let on. He looked… lovingly at Peter, as if Peter were the only person left in the restaurant. Then something bitter flickered over his expression, and very suddenly Elias turned his attention back to Jon. “You know, I could take care of you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I need you to do that when I have-” And then it hit Jon, square in the chest, all at once. Martin, bringing him tea. Martin, having lunch with him. Martin, sending Jon pictures of his cat. Martin at the wedding. Martin in the archives after hours with him. Martin. “I have to go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go?” Elias asked, looking at Jon quizzically. “Where could you possibly have to go now?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Terribly sorry, Elias,” Jon said, already turning to leave. “I will see you at the Institute on Monday!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon ran through the streets, racing off towards his destination.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Racing off towards Martin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon had only been to Martin’s flat on one occasion, a party he threw for Melanie and Georgie’s engagement, but he somehow still knew the way to get there. It was as if the knowledge had been inside him all along, and he rushed through the quiet streets hoping that Martin was home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A light on in the window told Jon that Martin was indeed home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped outside the building for a moment, trying to catch his breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What am I thinking? Why would I just take off running like that? What if… No. I’m here. And he needs to know. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steeling himself, Jon walked up to the door, knocking firmly but not aggressively. It wasn’t too late, so Jon hoped he wasn’t interrupting anything. He waited awkwardly at the door for a moment, second guessing himself, when the door opened to reveal Martin. “Jon? What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon’s breath caught for a moment as Martin opened the door. Here, surrounded by the faint light from his hallway, Martin looked somewhat softer than usual, his kind face looking down at Jon not with anger but with curiosity and a hint of happiness. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Jon replied “I do apologize for coming here without notice I just… needed to see you, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin quirked his head curiously. “I… Alright. Why don’t you come in. I’ll make us some tea.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is inspired by the songs/scenes<br/>Sorry-Grateful<br/>The vignette about Joanne and Larry</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. and Martin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon sat quietly on Martin’s couch, listening to the sounds of him making tea in the kitchen behind him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I can help if you'd like," Jon offered as Martin ushered him onto the couch.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Martin smiled, "It's fine, Jon, just sit for a minute. You look as though you've ran here or something."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon didn't have it in him to yell Martin that he had indeed ran to the flat. That the desire, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>need,</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see Martin had become so intense all at once that Jon didn't even consider calling a cab or taking public transit. Martin would certainly think that was foolish and fuss over Jon, making it harder to have the discussion at hand with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin returned from the kitchen and handed Jon a cup of tea before taking a seat on the chair opposite Jon’s place on the couch. "Is everything alright, Jon? I thought you were supposed to be meeting with Elias tonight."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I was. He brought Peter with him and you know how those two are," Martin, having assisted Peter during his short time working with Elias at the Institute, knew exactly what Jon meant and nodded. "After arguing for some time, Elias excused the two of us for a cigarette and then…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Jon trailed off, Martin took a sip from his tea, studying Jon. Jon could feel a slight blush creeping onto his face because of the attention, eyes turning their gaze to the cup of tea in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It seemed like a silly thing to notice in that moment, but the cup of tea was perfect. Every cup of tea Martin had made for him had been perfect. Even when Jon made his own tea, it never compared, and he couldn't help but think that Martin’s tea was perfect because it came from Martin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because it showed that he cared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon had been trying to show he cared more recently too. Seeking Martin out, trying to be kinder, trying to be better. Trying to take care of Martin in the same way Martin took care of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Jon?" Martin asked, rousing Jon from his thoughts. "Are you sure you're alright?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon lifted his gaze to meet Martin’s, looking into his warm brown eyes. There was contemplation in his eyes, as well as caring and concern and…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And fondness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like how Tim looked at Sasha. Or how Daisy talked about Basira. Or how Melanie worried about Georgie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fond and full of love.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I tell you something, Martin?" Jon asked, waiting until Martin nodded before continuing. "Everyone has been talking to me about love and relationships lately. From Tim and Sasha trying to set me up to Daisy telling me I don't need to be alone to fucking Elias hitting on me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin choked on a bit of tea. "He what?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Before I came here, he asked me when we were going to stop dancing around each other and told me he could take care of me," Jon could see Martin opening his mouth to say something, but Jon held up his hand. "Please, Martin. I don't know… I don't know that I can get through this with interruptions so please, I promise this will mean something in a moment."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin looked at Jon warily, but nodded, motioning Jon to continue. "I'm very used to telling people that I'm fine on my own. That I'm better on my own. I'm used to insisting I can take care of myself even when my idea of self care probably isn't very good," Jon took a deep breath, looking into Martin’s eyes once again, drawing on their warmth to fuel him. "I'm not better on my own, Martin. I'm better when I'm with you," he heard Martin gasp softly, but powered through. "For the longest time I thought I was content, but spending so much time with you over the past year has proven to me that I'm not. I'm happiest, at my best, when I'm with you. Christ, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, Martin. And I'm enough of a fool that I didn't even realize it until my boss decided to hit on me. Why would I need him to take care of me when I have you, someone who cares for me and who I try my best to care for in turn? I don't… I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>expect</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything from this but it felt… pertinent to tell you. Because I love you and am finally able to see it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Silence falls over the two and Jon’s eyes fall closed. He had said his piece, pulling the words out of himself that he fought so desperately to hide for so long. And now they were out, no longer belonging to him. Belonging to Martin instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the sound of a soft sniffle that made Jon's eyes shoot open. As they did, he took in the sight of Martin crying in front of him. "Oh, god, Martin, I'm sorry-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then Martin smiled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't, don't you dare apologize for that, Jonathan Sims, I just..." Martin took a deep breath, wiping some of the tears off his face before moving to sit next to Jon on the couch. Jon tensed momentarily as he did this, but then Martin grabbed his hand, their fingers entwining naturally. "This hardly feels real, you know? I never thought… Well, it doesn't matter what I thought anymore, does it?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin reached his other hand up to Jon’s face, cradling it before bringing their foreheads together softly. "I love you, too, Jon."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smiles grew larger on each of their faces as they sat their, wrapped in a semi embrace. For a moment, there was a quiet warmth between the two that slowly morphed into whispered conversation once again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They never let go of each other's hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon awoke slowly to the sound of a faint buzzing and a slight pain in his neck. Eyes blinking open, he took in his surroundings, realizing that he was still at Martin’s, on his couch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that Martin was still asleep on Jon's shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They must have drifted off at some point while talking on the couch, cups of cold tea sitting on the table in front of him. The buzzing sound continued and Jon realized it was his phone. Moving slowly so as not to wake Martin, he answered it. "Hello?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, Jon, glad to hear you're alright after rushing off yesterday," </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elias</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jon thought to himself. "I hope that everything is alright?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon looked over at Martin who was still asleep, his position undoubtedly uncomfortable. A soft smile found its way onto Jon's face. "Yes, everything is fine, Elias."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Splendid! Well, this is unfortunately a business call. I need you to come to the archives immediately, and pack a bag. We're going to visit the Fairchild's estate in Scotland about an artifact for the archive."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I… what?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll see you by eight at the latest, Jon!" Elias said, ignore Jon's questioning. Before Jon could get another word in, Elias hung up. Sparing a glance at the clock, Jon saw it was a little after seven in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What was that all about?" Martin grumbled sleepily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It was Elias," Jon said, staring blankly at his phone. "I… I have to go."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where ya going?" Martin asked, sitting up. Sleep still colored his words, but he was more awake than he had been the moment prior.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Scotland, apparently."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," Martin said sadly. The warm bubble of feelings they had made last night seemed to pop immediately upon Martin’s reaction. Jon sighed, standing up and Martin moved to follow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't get up, Martin. Or do, I suppose, if you're going to go back to bed."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you have to?" Martin asked, sitting at the edge of the couch, hand reaching out for Jon’s, lacing their fingers together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Elias is requesting me personally," Jon said, giving Martin’s hand a squeeze. "Please don't be angry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not angry," Martin said, standing up. "Just… sad I guess. Feels like I finally got you and you're slipping away again."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon raised Martin’s hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss on the back of it. "I'll be back, Martin."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin just stared at Jon for a moment before sighing. "I know, I know. I just wish…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They stayed like that for a moment, a few feet between them but still grasping each other's hand like a lifeline. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You have to go," Martin said after a moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," Jon agreed, neither one of them moving. "But if I had my way…" Jon looked at the clock and then back at Martin. The early light of Saturday morning creeping into Martin’s flat, washing them both with it's warm glow. The same warmth from last night filled Jon, and he smiled, stepping toward Martin. "Well, okay."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay?" Martin asked, also moving forward a step.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll stay," Jon said, moving into Martin’s space and wrapping his arms around him. "If that's alright with you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin just nodded, seemingly dumbfounded by Jon’s decision to put him before his work. The two gravitated closer and closer until finally Jon’s lips met Martin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was no heat behind the kiss, just a warmth of a love finally meeting through a kiss. As Martin pulled back, he laughed a little, giddily, before placing his forehead against Jon's like he had the night before, still smiling brilliantly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of buzzing broke them from their gentle stupor and Jon looked down to see his phone vibrating yet again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh god, Elias," Martin said, his giddy laughter taking on an edge of dread.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hello?" Jon said as he answered the phone, stepping back from Martin but keeping their hands locked together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know I gave you the hour, Jon, but it's truly surprising to me that you're not here yet," Elias said, no malice in his voice, but an air of curiosity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, about that. I'm not coming."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh?" Elias said and Jon could picture his raised eyebrow in his mind. "Is that so?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's the weekend, Elias. I'm technically not honor bound to help you during this time," Jon said calmly, causing Martin to stifle a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That you are not. I suppose it can wait for better planning, or perhaps I can get Peter to come with me. Very well then, Jon," Elias said just as calmly. It was as if he knew this would happen. "Oh and do give my best to Mr. Blackwood for me!" Before Jon could say anything, Elias had hung up on him once again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well?" Martin asked as Jon put the phone down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Elias sends his best."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're joking," Martin said, giving Jon a semi startled look. Jon shook his head. "How did he… Did you tell him you were coming here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I did not and I would rather not think about how he knew," Jon said casually, before squeezing Martin’s hand once again. "I rather think we've earned the right to a Saturday lie in, don't you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin smiled, pulling Jon towards his bedroom. "I agree but not on that couch," As they started to move, Martin faltered a bit. "I… is this alright?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon leaned up and pecked Martin on the cheek. "It's more than alright, Martin."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is inspired by the songs/scenes:<br/>Barcelona</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Jon and Martin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“So Jon, what do you look for in a partner?” Sasha asked, pressing a warm cup of tea into his hands as he stared blankly at the table in front of him, once again regretting his decision to allow Sasha and Tim to meddle in his personal life in this way.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Understanding of boundaries?” he offered, word tilting into a question in his mouth. Since their first discussion on the topic, Jon had explained his asexuality to Sasha and Tim in more concrete terms. Kissing was fine, physical touch was encouraged as long as it stayed strictly above the belt. Anyone who didn’t understand that would not be welcome in Jon’s life. “I think that’s probably the biggest one.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tim studied him for a moment, and Jon noted the way he leaned into his wife’s touch, moving closer to her almost unconsciously. That was the kind of thing Jon wanted. After a moment, Tim spoke up. “Let’s try a different question, one that might be more our archivist’s speed: What do you think romantic love is?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That gave Jon pause. He had never really been one to differentiate love in his mind, though he did understand that there were differences between what he felt towards his friends and what he had felt towards partners in the past. Romance had often been an extension of friendship in his past, not necessarily defined as ‘better’ or ‘more’, but as ‘further’. It reached out in front of him and he allowed himself to be entangled in that extension. That’s how he ended up with Georgie, their friendship slowly moving into a space beyond what it had been, taking on a romantic edge to it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It had hurt him when it ended, but he understood. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon noticed that Tim was still staring at him, waiting for a response. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I guess it’s… having someone to hold you too close, and to know you too well. Someone who can need you too much or hurt you too deep, who can put you through hell… Someone you let in and share with and who forces you to, to care. Someone who is just as, as frightened as you are of… Of being vulnerable. Of being alive.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He expected blank stares from Tim and Sasha following his statement, but was instead meant with a knowing look, one that seemed to truly understand what he was saying. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It made him relax, just a bit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Martin says you’ve stopped going on dates recently,” Basira said to him one day as she waited for Daisy to finish up her work so the two could leave for the day.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“More office gossip, Basira?” Jon said, looking up from the statement he had been reading to see her standing in the doorway to his office. She looked at him expectantly, so he conceded. “Tim and Sasha have seemed to stop their efforts in setting me up. I think that as we move closer to Melanie and Georgie’s wedding, the excitement has kept them preoccupied.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Basira nodded and Jon figured that was the end of it. He began to focus on the statement in front of him once again, but then Basira spoke. “Daisy talked to you about it, after I left last week, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Pardon?” Jon asked, genuinely confused. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Basira sighed, moving into the office and taking a seat across from Jon. “We had discussed… Look. I know that pretty much everyone in the office has probably talked to you about finding a romantic partner at this point. And I know that, because you haven’t told us all to fuck off, it’s something you’re actually interested in. Daisy and I… We were both people who kept others at arm’s length. Standoffish, but worked well together on the force. And when we left the force, it was easier to see that we just… worked together.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon set the statement back down. “Ah, yes. She did mention that the last time I was there. Said something about me… not having to be alone?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Basira nodded. “I know you have all of us, Jon. And that, in the traditional sense, you’re not alone. You’ve got platonic love for miles, and for a while I genuinely thought that was enough for you. But I saw how you looked at everyone at your birthday party. It was longing, as if you wanted something other than the platonic love you got.” Jon was quiet, allowing Basira’s words to wash over him. She stood up, making her way back to the door. “That’s what she meant by alone, Jon. We’ll always be here for you, but you don’t have to be alone romantically if that’s not what you want,” She was about to leave but paused just another moment. “And you don’t have to let Tim and Sasha set you up if you have eyes on someone.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Eyes on someone?” he inquired but Basira had already left, leaving Jon in his office with the ghost of her words floating around his head. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Georgie called Jon over a few days after returning from her honeymoon. “Melanie told me what happened,” she said as Jon entered the flat and took a seat on the couch, the Admiral jumping into his lap.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She did?” Jon asked, surprised. “I… That’s good, I suppose.” A pause. “I’m sorry for not telling you, I just… hoped I would be able to diffuse the situation.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Georgie laughed, sitting down next to Jon and leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m not angry, Jon. If anything, I’m grateful. Never would’ve pegged you as the type to stop a runaway bride from, well, running away.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon chuckled. “Yes, well, I never expected to be giving any brides away either. Seems I did alright on both ends.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Georgie sighed, running her hand over The Admiral’s back. “You’ve learned a lot in the time since we were together.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m glad,” she said softly, still leaning against him. “You’re going to make someone very happy someday.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon’s eyes darted to look at her, “You think?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She leaned back to look at Jon, eyes full of joy. “I do. I think you’ve finally learned to want something. And that it’s okay for you to want something.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Peter hung up the phone, looking over at his husband who was still laying in bed. He opened up his email and quickly typed out a message to the majority of his archive staff before returning to his place beside his husband. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>They finally figured it out. I believe Sasha is the winner of the betting pool? </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>-Elias.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon blinked awake in the early morning light, looking over at Martin who was wrapped in his arms. Taking a quick glance at his phone, moving carefully so as not to disturb Martin, he saw it was just after seven, the date showing it had been exactly a year since he first got to lay with Martin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to propose today.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin didn’t know, or at least Jon assumed he didn’t. Tim and Sasha had helped him pick out a ring, a simple woven band without any gemstone of any kind. Jon had worried it was too plain, but Sasha encouraged him to go with the band after she saw the light in his eyes when he looked at it. It looked as though it were meant for Martin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Melanie and Georgie had tried to help him plan a proposal, but Jon could never decide on any of their plans. Eventually they encouraged him to just do what felt right.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon, go back to sleep,” Martin grumbled, tightening his grip on Jon. “It’s early. You’re thinking too loud.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon smiled, leaning over to kiss Martin on the forehead. “My apologies, love. I’ll try to think more quietly.” There was no way Jon could sleep again now, not when his mind was running through the possibilities for a proposal. The ring box sat in the drawer just to the right of him, so close he could lean over and grab it now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin grumbled again, eyes opening slowly. “You’re never able to stop the thoughts running through your head once they start, are you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon smiled sheepishly. “I did try.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you didn’t,” Martin said teasingly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t,” Jon agreed. “Happy anniversary, love.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>- </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had just cleaned up after dinner and were about to settle on the couch when Jon realized it was the right moment. Martin sat down, a cup of tea in hand, as Jon raced back into the bedroom. “Jon? Is everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sliding the box into his pocket, Jon returned to the living room and sat down next to Martin. Martin looked at him quizzically before shrugging, settling himself against Jon and moving to flip on the television before Jon stopped him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I… May I say something?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin looked confused, but nodded. “Of course, Jon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You, Martin Blackwood, are my best friend. My right arm. You allow me to extend my love, allow me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> and to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You keep me company, in a way I never imagined for myself,” Jon slowly reached into his pocket, pulling the ring box out. Martin gasped in surprise. “If you would allow me to, I… It would be my honor to be able to keep you company, to share your love, for the rest of our days. Will you marry me, Martin?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin gasped out a disbelieving “Yes!” before throwing himself at Jon, squeezing him tightly before pulling out just far enough to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When they finally pulled apart, Jon slid the ring onto Martin’s finger before giving his hand a gentle kiss. Martin laughed, a joy Jon had never seen before on his face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A joy Jon would see every day for the rest of his life.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is inspired by the songs/scenes<br/>Marry Me a Little<br/>Being Alive</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never required. Come hang out with me on <a href="https://probsnothawkeye.tumblr.com/">tumblr!</a> I'm a wholeass mess on there but it's still kinda fun.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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